


An Uchiha's love

by UnknownRegion



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe, Body Dysphoria, Child Soldiers, Dimensional Travel, Disturbing Themes, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Gender Dysphoria, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Isekai, M/M, OC-turn-Obito, Secret Identity, Self-Indulgent, transmigration(?)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-11-03
Packaged: 2019-05-29 20:46:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15081401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownRegion/pseuds/UnknownRegion
Summary: A cosplayer waslovinglysent to the Narutoverse by the ever powerful Truck-kun. She, nowhe, could only despair at his(no, it'sher, dammit!) choice of cosplay outfit now that (s)he was the character itself.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GenderlessPerson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GenderlessPerson/gifts).



> **Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, obviously.
> 
> Well, this idea wouldn't leave my head no matter what. It's been weeks, you know? I suspect that I've read a work similar somewhere before, but I can't quite recall from where (and that was the bud!). So if any of you note the similarities, please do inform me and I'll do something 'bout it. 
> 
> Now, please enjoy! m(_ _)m

Yumiko stared at her contact lens casing in annoyance. Not at the case itself, no, but at what was floating tauntingly inside of it. The seller had, much to her displeasure, delivered the wrong contacts to her. What she wanted was the two tomoe version of the Sharingan, not these...  _abominations_!

When she glanced at her phone's watch, she couldn't help but spit out a few words that would make even a sailor blush. With an aggravated sigh - having little choice because she would be late if she delayed any longer - she popped the two lenses onto her eyeballs and blinked rapidly to adjust. Eyedrops were slipped into her pockets just in case.

The full-length mirror showed chunin Uchiha Obito glaring defying back at her, his Dōjutsu menacing even though she knew he was simply a costume. No matter how accurate her whole outfit was, the eyes ruined all of her hard work, damn it!

She would've forgone the incorrect lenses, but due to her eye color being a light shade of brown rather than the typical Uchiha black, the choice was pretty obvious. As much as a perfectionist she was at cosplaying, she would rather use the wrong Sharingan eyes than to blatantly change her character's eye color.

Twirling once to check if there was anything else amiss, she nodded smugly before she ran out of her house, the only personal items on her person were her mobile phone, wallet, keys, and silver cigarette case with an inbuilt lighter.

The minivan waiting at her driveway honked impatiently, which only made her drag her feet all the more. Her cosplay group's leader was an impatient arsehole during good days - a downright menace on bad ones.

"You're late!" Her best friend Riku, currently dressed as a young Kakashi, yelled as she slid beside him at the backmost seat.

She grinned sheepishly, and since she was feeling quite mischevious, replied in a very Obito-like fashion, "Sorry I'm late! I was helping this old lady-"

"Unless your house is haunted, I very much doubt it," Riku muttered grumpily with crossed arms. "Your excuses are getting worse by the day, Yu-chan."

"Maa... At least we won't be late to the convention this time." Riku's older brother (dressed as adult Kakashi), eye-smiled as he looked at them from the passenger seat. The man had Kakashi's placating expression down to the letter. How he did it with only 1/4 of his face showing was telling of his acting skills.

The driver, their dear leader, glowered at her tardiness, which only made her shudder at his pissed off expression. That wasn't a face the Yondaime Hokage should be making. And because her group consisted of cosplay experts (professionals really), he looked a hundred percent like the character he was dressing as.

As the vehicle moved to their destination, everyone dared not open their mouths to risk attracting the attention of the aggravated demon wearing Minato's skin. With time to spare, Yumiko took quick glances at all of her companions.

This was her usual group when going to anime conventions. They may all be in their twenties, but their love for anime was still strong. All eight of them were present and dressed as Team Minato and Team Kakashi; all of them having agreed beforehand to cosplay as their respective characters to avoid any clashes.

There were a few crossdressers like her (and if she didn't know them beforehand, wouldn't have noticed), mostly for BL or GL pairings since everyone in the group was straight and as much as they didn't mind posing for the crowd of otakus at the convention; they would rather avoid snogging the same gender if they could help it.

Everyone looked professional; with not a single article of clothing worn incorrectly. It only made her all the more embarrassed at her mistake. She prayed to fucking Jashin-sama that nobody would realize her error.

"By the way, Yu-chan... What's up with your contacts? Pre-'death' Obito doesn't have the Mangekyou Sharingan." Riku whispered in askance, one eyebrow raised, "I must have overestimated your ability to retain information."

 _Snrk_... She would never pray to Jashin-sama ever again.

With a depressed air, she leaned closer to him as she replied, not wanting to be overheard by the others, "I received the wrong order. They came too late for me to switch 'em. Tsk, it was either this or nothing - I made sure to tear the seller a new hole for that error. Fuck him and his excuses..."

Riku snorted as he rolled his eyes, muttering lowly to himself about her crude language. She ignored him with practiced ease, pulling out her mobile phone and browsing through her favorite fanfic website. Since she and her group were dressed as Naruto characters this time around, she searched for her Naruto OTP; KakaIru.

She heard her best friend scoff at her choice of reading material - which was practically erotica at this point - but didn't bother with telling him off. The little shite and she would always end up agreeing to disagree at which pairing was the best.

 _Pbbt_ , no offense to those who worship KakaSaku, but that pairing seriously gave her chills - and not the pleasant ones, too. It wasn't the age difference that turned her off, no, it was simply due to the fact that she couldn't see Sakura with anyone but Sasuke. Boruto finalized her opinion all the more.

Also, her best friend was the sappy romantic type of guy. He preferred reading really diabetic inducing stories that were full of gag-worthy romances whilst she favored pure smut with the occasional fluff.

Halfway through a rather steamy outdoor scene where ANBU Kakashi was ravaging Hunter-nin Iruka, Riku's elbow dug painfully into her side. She shot him a look worthy of insane-Obito, and judging by the involuntary shudder she received, she did an excellent job at conveying her dissatisfaction.

"We're reaching in five. Let's get into character."

At their group leader's announcement, everyone swiftly turned their phones off and slipped their personal possessions into the prepared duffle bag; it would later be stuffed under the seats before they left the vehicle. She sneakily left her cigarette case in the ninja pouch, knowing that her unhealthy addiction to nicotine was pretty high up and forgoing even an hour (two max) of smoking would make her pretty skittish.

This was why she loved this small group of theirs. When they roleplayed... They truly immerse themselves in their characterization. They were like a well-oiled machine, with everyone already knowing how to behave and be respectful of personal boundaries they had previously set up.

The one dressed as Nohara Rin faced Riku, the brunette already giving love-struck gazes to young Kakashi. Riku, on the other hand, had turned to gaze out of the window, ignoring everyone around him like the smug little bastard young Kakashi was. Hiding her amusement, she made a face at young Kakashi's blatant disrespect of Obito's crush and childhood friend, ready to blow like an active volcano at the slightest of provocation.

Getting into character, to her, has always been the most interesting part. Cosplaying made her forget reality; to temporarily shut her mind of any worries and allow for her to act as another person for the duration she was (literally) in the other's shoes.

When they exited the minivan, everyone has already entered their respective characters. The people around them looked at their group with awe as photos and videos were being taken and recorded. Some even braved up to them to get a few photos.

As they all posed, the most dominant emotion she felt was the eagerness. She couldn't wait to participate in the group cosplay contest. They had never once lost after coming together, after all.

* * *

With a discreet hand signal, she passed along the message that she would be gone for a few minutes to get some much needed fresh air. Riku nodded slightly before walking off with the Rin cosplayer on his heels to search for their Minato.

As much as she loved anime conventions, she disliked the feeling of being a canned sardine more. The crowd had thickened considerably since it was lunchtime, and it made the interior of the building too warm for her liking. The layers of clothing, along with the makeup she wore, weren't helping in the slightest.

She didn't have claustrophobia, but the smell of perspiration was getting to her. The downside of being an otaku was that some of her people simply cared not if they stank up the whole place with their BO.

Distracted by her rather disrespectful and nasty stereotyping, she didn't pay much attention when she walked out of the building and onto the zebra crossing, a lit cigarette dangling loosely in between her lips. When she heard a distinctive sound of a truck's horn from her right side, her mind wondered why the vehicle was suddenly in her face. Then it hit her.

As she was flung many meters away, bouncing on the road like a broken ragdoll, the only thought at the forefront of her mind was; 'a pun, really?!' and then darkness. 


	2. Chapter 2

She awoke with a strangled gasp, feeling the whole of her right side pulsing uncomfortably whilst her ears hear nothing but the sound of blaring horns and the impact of metal hitting flesh. She dared not move carelessly, afraid that even the slightest of movements would cause irreversible results. She had, after all, seen many of such cases.

In her line of work, she encountered numerous RTAs where the victim in question jolted around unknowingly and endangered themselves, leading to permanent paralysis from the neck down or something of similar results. So she did her best to control her breathing, shallow inhales and a steady respiration, not wanting to bring any complications.

She threw the growing panic to the back most of her mind, knowing that anxiety and blind fear led to nothing but trouble.

One by one, she mechanically curled her fingers and toes, only to realize that something was very wrong when five of her digits refused to co-operate. In fact, the whole of her right side was numb of any sensations. She pinched her eyes shut, fearing for the worse, before quickly pushing those ' _what ifs_ ' aside. She couldn't afford to falter at a critical time like this, no matter how foreboding this was beginning to look.

Her left hand rose sluggishly - a shadow of trepidation making her hesitant - as she forced the heavy limb to reach for her right side. At the reassuring feel of her arm still attached to her body, she sobbed out in pure relief. At the very least, she didn't need to worry about dying of blood loss due to missing limbs. Infection and amputation, however, was another thing altogether. The majority of her right arm was littered with lacerations that were still leaking out blood.

As she continued to analyze the damages with a clinical mindset, she noted that her shoulder had been dislocated and her humerus and ulna practically shattered. At the very least, the bone pieces hadn't broken through her skin, she mused distractedly, that wouldn't have been humerus at all.

Her fingers slid delicately over her torso, scrutinizing for internal injuries (a few bruised organs but nothing too bad) with efficiency. And just her luck, too; she could feel and hear crunchy movements indicating that the right side of her ribcage had been shattered as well (how was she still alive?). She was seriously relieved to have been manually breathing throughout her awakening. She couldn't afford to risk deep inhalation (no matter how much her body craved to just suck in a whole bag of oxygen).

With a dissatisfied hum, she continued prodding about, mindful of the many wounds scattered all over her right side, including her neck and face (which she wanted to openly wail over. A woman's face was her life). When she deemed her spine intact enough to not risk permanent damage, she turned her head slightly to visually inspect how bad her injuries were.

As soon as she saw the state of her arm, however, she had to hold back the urge to scream and puke at the same time. Sure, she was used to seeing blood, gore, and road kill due to her occupation as a paramedic, but that was  _her_  (mangled and banged up) arm she was looking at. Not some stranger's. She didn't even want to picture what her chest and face looked like - just by touching them she knew that scarring was inevitable (if she survived).

Her legs, thankfully, didn't look worse for wear. Although her right ankle appeared to be at an awkward angle, it would still be functional after she aligns the bone correctly. She simply needed to lay off her right foot for a couple of weeks. Her right arm, though, was useless for an undetermined amount of time.

With great hesitancy, she mentally prepared to sit up.

The pain was expected, but that still did not prevent her from keening and dropping back bonelessly onto the ground. The numbness had all but disappeared, leaving behind excruciating agony. She moaned and whimpered as her fingers twitched and her body spasm uncontrollably. She dearly wished for sleep; away from this terrible experience, but alas, her body was being a bitch and betraying her desires.

It was only when the pain declined into an uncomfortable throb did her brain function enough to tell her to shout for help. So she did, croaking for anyone to call an ambulance (or put her out of her misery). When nobody answered her, she painfully cracked an eye open to take in her surroundings behind the screen of her orange goggles (which was miraculously still intact).

It was much to her bewilderment that she came upon the realization that she was all alone and nowhere near civilization. In fact, she was currently in a forest being surrounded by boulders and rubble. The truck, no matter how fast it was going (fucker should have their license hanged), couldn't have thrown her far from the road.  _Where had all the buildings gone to?_

But as far as her spotty eyes could see, there were only trees, monstrous ones, looming over her head like some kind of third-rate horror flick. The trunks were as wide as two horizontally challenged men, with sturdy branches and wide leaves.

It took a moment for her brain to catch up, but when it did, it screeched;  _screw the giant trees_  - the boulders were the ones that she should fear the most. The slightest of ground tremors would be sufficient enough to end her life. She could even morbidly picture being buried alive whilst slowly being deprived of precious oxygen and blood.

That would, undoubtedly, be a schist way to go... Not to mention ironic since the character she was cosplaying as had encountered such a fate. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't count on her not so gneiss luck for some senile old man and plant boy to save her. As much as she loved fiction, this wasn't the time to escape reality.

Also, she should firmly stop with the untimely puns. The situation wasn't exactly laughable. She was kinda on the verge of death, after all. The last thing she wanted was to make a grave mistake because of her sliding sanity.  _Ok, seriously, enough with the ground and rock jokes._

With the very intention of getting away from such a rocky spot ( _yeah, she dealt with unnerving situations using morbid jokes, sue her, alright?_ ), she pulled as much courage as she could muster and pushed herself into a more transportable position. Her determination to live outweighed the agonizing pain of knives stabbing her all over, but she couldn't help the pitiful whimpers from escaping her throat every time she moved her abused muscles.

It took everything she had to not cave in ( _she gave up. Expect more untimely puns in the future_ ) to the temptations of fainting as she dragged her useless body, using only her left limbs, out from between the huge arse boulders. When she finally managed to, she went limp as she gasps for breath, her whole body covered in a layer of cold sweat, causing her ruined outfit to stick uncomfortably on her clammy skin.

The fucking pain was making her see white, leaving her dizzy as she fought the bile from rising any higher. She wasn't successful in her endeavor and had no choice but to torment her body further by rolling onto her good side. As much as it tormented her physically and mentally, it was better than to choke on her own vomit.

She heaved and gagged as stomach acid burnt her throat, leaving a metallic and disgusting aftertaste. When her blurred and heavy-lidded eyes saw blood mixed with bile, she couldn't help the sound of distress from leaving her throat. She did not need internal injuries to fuck her not so stellar chances of survival, thank you very much!

Furthermore, in such a dense forest with such giant trees, there would definitely be dangerous and carnivorous animals. She wasn't someone who could strive in such an environment, what with being a city girl, and with such fatal injuries... she didn't stand a chance if she were to find herself face to face with a bear or something equally as terrifying.

Screw running away. She would play possum and hope for the best. At least vultures don't live in forests, right?

* * *

For some few hours or so, she continued to slip in and out of consciousness, her mind too wary to stay unaware, yet her body too exhausted to stay awake. The contradiction made her all the more spent.

The next time she came to, the moon was high up in the sky, much to her ever-growing horror. Just by watching a few episodes of Animal Planet, she knew that night was the time those ferocious predators came out to play.

Not knowing what else to do, she cursed herself for being rash. The boulders might've been the safer option right now,  _but damn it_ , she was doomed if either a big predator came along sniffing her blood out or the boulders decided that her life was better as a pancake.

Talk about a rock and a hard place. She has never hated mother nature so badly before... and the agreement to not carry mobile phones whilst cosplaying.

Gritting her teeth with fierceness, she palmed the earth with her good hand and pushed herself up. The involuntary tears appeared with the pain, but she did her best to ignore them in favor of moving into a Fowler's position. The first thing she did, even before her mind caught up to her actions, was to push her right shoulder back into place.

Unable to stop herself, she howled and clawed at the ground, fighting to keep her lips sealed even as she screamed her throat raw. Whilst delirious due to the onslaught of pain, she worked to align her right foot. The deepest part of her knew better than to delay the treatment. It was now or never, because fuck, she didn't want to prolong her suffering - she wasn't a masochist.

Her only available hand was trembling so badly as she pushed and pulled to align the bone. Figuratively thinking on her feet, she used what little of the bandages from her cosplay outfit on her right thigh, along with two kunai, to splint her ankle.

Never before has she been so glad to be a cosplay enthusiast - even going as far as to smuggle legit weapons to use as her character's prop. They were, at the very least, sturdy, and could be used to defend herself against... eh,  _fuck that_. No matter how sharp her kunai and shuriken were, she would be torn apart within seconds if she ever faced off against a pack of starving wolves.

A pitiful groan later and she was limping into a more shaded area of the forest. She didn't care if predators could follow her bloody scent, she simply wanted to at least feel safe behind a shrubbery for the peace of her own mind. Then she would sleep and let nature take its course.

She just hopes that she would not wake up to fangs and claws, and if they were truly eager to snack on her, they would at least try to meat her expectations by going for her throat. No way in hell was she wanting the rare experience of being eaten alive.

* * *

She was, honestly, quite surprised to still be alive. It was a nice feeling - to be alive, that was. Until the pain and exhaustion caught up to her.

As she groggily checked all of her injuries, she had to mentally thank whichever deity that was watching over her that her wounds hadn't become infected overnight and her ribs had not punctured her lungs (yet). Not to be negative, but drowning in her own blood didn't sound at all appealing.

By habit alone, she searched blindly for her  _precious_  (cigarette case, haha), not at all caring that she might be dying of blood loss right now. She shouted in triumph at seeing the silver case intact, though dented. The motion of lighting a cigarette was calming as she inhaled the cancerous fumes.

Now that she has her morning dose of nicotine, she could finally  _think_.

Consumables, meaning water and food, were a priority. A shelter was something she could not make/build with her limited usage of limbs, so searching for a hollowed tree would suffice - and with such big trees all around of her, she was bound to discover one sooner or later.

Before she could make a move with finding a river or a pond or  _something_ , her body protested. Apparently, simply the thought of water was enough for nature to call. With a pained huff, she pulled herself to her feet and leaned against the oversized trunk nearest to her. She fumbled to unclasp the belt of her pouches, her right arm hanging uselessly by her side.

When the ninja pouches landed on the ground, she kicked them slightly to the side and tugged her pants and boxers down... only to stare with wide, disbelieving eyes when she saw something stomach-churning dangling in between her legs.

A finger was soon shakily (curiously) making its way to the  _THING_ , and a poke later confirmed that it was very much attached to her in a way that made her  **VERY**  uncomfortable.

She would've blacked out, but her clinical side slapped her in the face and screamed at her to think about all of  _that_  (ohlordthatwasthewrongsexorgan) later. Bodily needs came first. Peeing all over herself wasn't hygienic, especially with so many open wounds on  _this_  body ( **not**   **hers** , not anymore). She didn't need to fasten her date of expiry any further than necessary.

She grabbed the dangling...  _thing..._  as if it was covered in cooties and shuddered at the unpleasant and disturbing sensation. Not being able to help herself, she scrunched her eyes shut in order to block out the chilling sight whilst quickly emptying her bladder. The smell of burning tobacco, at the very least, managed to keep her sane enough to not do anything stupid (like cutting it off with her kunai). Once again, she implores that she wasn't suicidal - simply unstable right now.

When all  _that_  was done, she pulled up her boxers and blood covered pants as well as reclasping the ninja pouch belt. Limping away from her toilet, she listlessly moved in a random direction, her mind carefully blank.

It was only when she could no longer ignore the sensation of walking with something between her legs did she blurt out the first thing that came to her mind, idly registering that her voice sounded lower than her usual androgynous pitch.

"Dick. Balls."

She hysterically wondered if Riku (oh lord,  _Riku,_ _where was Riku?!_ ) would smack the back of her head for saying such words out loud. It was a hard battle against her sanity to not take a second glance at the  _thing_  resting in between her legs. Now that she was aware of it, she couldn't help but be  _conscious_  of it.

Another feverish realization was the lack of breast. She had always been flat-chested, but there was no mistaking the hard chest (and abs,  _when_  did she ever have such chiseled muscles?!) for anything but a man's... or a really buff woman. Which she was neither. How she had missed those facts when she was inspecting her-  _this_  body was a mystery in itself.

With her paying extra attention to this body, she was also privy to the weird buzzing coming from her lower abdomen.

 _Now, now_ ; she was anything but ignorant when it came to the weird contents of too-imaginative fanfics writers and isekai shenanigan. The only baffling thing was that this was  _reality_  and  **not**  fiction.

It was, simply, impossible for her to have suddenly developed some kind of weird-arse powers (but was she not a  _woman_  a day ago?). To prove herself delusional and merely paranoid (she wasn't the result of some bad cosmic joke,  _thank you very much_ ), she closed her eyes and concentrated on the buzz. She knew that it was probably hunger speaking, but the moment she 'poked' the warmth, it answered her almost eagerly.

Her eyes snapped open in disbelief as the buzz appeared to hum at her effort before it went back to its dormant state. Her head rolled back so that she was resting her cranium against a tree trunk, looking dully at the sky - or the leaves. Her current position made it impossible to see the sky.

Denial was something she had learned to overcome during her angsty teenage years. It wasn't healthy by any means. But fuck did she want to deny everything.

"'Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.'" She croaked, quoting Conan Doyle with an expression of incredulity.

 _Riku_...

She suddenly wanted to see Riku and hear his sassy commentaries about everything being a cruel jape. That she was on TV. Or maybe when she wakes up from this nightmare, he would be by her bedside, drily stating that he would be sending her back to kindergarten to re-educate her about the safeties of looking both ways before crossing the road.

She usually wasn't one to cry, but fuck did she want to break down and hide her face in Riku's shoulder and beg for his sarcastic reassurances.

The tears came a second later, followed by another, and soon, she was all but bawling her eyes out as she pushed the goggles aside to despairingly swipe at her eyes. She felt anguished as her heart shattered at the very thought of living without him.

She wanted Riku. Her best friend. Her rock. Her precious family, by choice rather than blood. She couldn't stand even the thought of him being gone forever from her. Her lifeline taken away from her so brutally due to a freak accident.

Never has she  _resented_  the truck driver so badly before. Never has this urge to see Riku hit her with such  _desperation_  before. Never has she forlornly  _cursed_  the fates for cruelly tearing them apart before. Never has she ever felt such mind-numbing  _ **hatred**  _before.

So she cried, hard and loud, not knowing what else to do.

She allowed all of the grief to bleed into tears as her mind wilfully provided the images of his smiling visage. The sorrow of losing her dear Riku was too strong, too unbearable. The loss too overpowering for her to care if she was heard by any living creature, her life devoid of motivation without him. She grasped desperately at the memory of Riku, at his grin, at his words, at his  _everything_... Her precious person.

The only one who would willingly put up with her tardiness and grisly sense of humor.

 _Riku_.  Riku.  **Riku**.  _ **Ri-**_

> _(Short black hair framing a handsome face, mirthful arrogant eyes, and a mischievous grin playing on his thin lips, looking at her with sadistic pleasure as she was scolded by their high school sensei for her punctuality - or lack thereof)_
> 
> _[Chin-length brown hair and purple clan markings on her smooth cheeks, adorable puppy dog eyes looking at him with fond exasperation as he apologizes to his team for being late - again]_
> 
> _(A handsome face hovered close to hers as he helps her with her prom makeup, his dark brown eyes catching all of her attention as she skillfully ignores his scalding commentaries of her lack of artistic talents)_
> 
> _[A pretty face grinning at him as she hands him the Academy Registration form, his onyx eyes entranced by her hazel ones as he hides his blush behind the paper]_

Her erratic breathing increased as fond memories of  _him_  (and  _her_ [?]) played at the forefront of her thoughts; her mind not truly differentiating past from present. And if she was confused by some vision of an unknown brunette, she shoved all of that away to focus more on her blinding anger.

She felt her inner walls being built, her heart breaking into tiny little pieces, and the color beginning to fade away with every blink she listlessly took. The emotions and feelings were too strong for her to contain. It made her eyes itch angrily. And if she had any energy left to move, she would've scratched at her eyes and clawed them out.

In order to stop the anguish, she concentrated on the feeling of wrongness - at her situation. At her change of gender. At her new 'power'. At the truck driver. At her loss. At her injuries. At the unfairness of it all. At the world in general.

With shaky fingers, she lit a new cigarette and inhaled the harmful fumes.

She continued to encourage - to simmer - her boiling emotions as she not-so-gently prodded the buzzing warmth in her abdomen (which she suspects was chakra) and  _played_  with it. She  **swore**  to master this new power of hers, and after that, she would heal herself somehow - because she didn't want to suffer anymore.

And if healing consisted of  _destroying_  this  _wrong_ **wrong** wrong world, then so be it.

> _(She discreetly gestured at one of her ninja pouches that were hiding her cigarette case from the judging eyes of her fellow cosplaying enthusiasts, playfully shrugging at her lack of restraint for her nicotine addiction. He rolled his eyes in_ _endearment whilst he_ _nodded, walking away from her for the_ very last time _)_
> 
> _[His body was frozen in pure shock, his only eye wide open in blatant disbelief and betrayal as_ Kakashi _\- his_ teammate _and the one who_ promised _to protect her - shoved a lightning clad fist right through her heart... The ground soon became dyed in blood, his vision stained crimson as he stared dully at the moon. He now understood; he was in hell]_

If that was all it took to bring Rin-  _Riku_  back to her, " _Then so be it._ "

Her tears were no longer clear as her vision turned crimson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me hear your thoughts (o'ｕ≦o)


	3. Chapter 3

The thundering sound and aching throb of her empty stomach broke through her muddled mind, forcefully driving away that  _deranged_  mentality by prioritizing more on this body's desire for survival. When she finally caught up to her thoughts, she couldn't help but blanch, her whole body drenched in cold sweat.

How her thought process had actually jumped from self- _healing_  to  _world destruction_ left her dizzy and terrified of her own mind. There was absolutely no connection whatsoever for those two to be aligned. And she just  _knew_ it was this body's fault, as ludicrous as it sounds.

She may not be the brightest bulb around, but the obvious breadcrumbs she constantly found were more than enough to give her an idea of  _what the fuck_  was happening to her.

Waking up surrounded by boulders big enough to crush her? -It could have been a one-time coincidence.

Injured  _only_  on the right side? -Traffic accidents  _do not_  work that way.

The change of gender? -Crossdressing was  _supposed_  to only affect the outside appearance, giving her more of a masculine look, not  _change_  her from the inside-out!

The buzzing warmth in her abdomen? -Yeah, she was hungry (starving, actually), but hunger has never before felt like this, ok?!

Injuries that were supposed to have left her for dead? -Anime characters have always been resilient and hard to kill off...

The ultimate conclusion? She had been  _displaced_  into Narutoverse, and due to cosplaying as Obito, had taken over  _his_  body,  _somehow_. Although there were some ultimatum that did not add the fuck up. An example would be her cigarette case. It had stubbornly followed her to this...  _world_ , even though her fucking  _vagina_  did not.

No matter how irrational everything appeared to be, it was undeniable that she was not on  _her_  Earth. So the only logical (but could  _this_  even be considered  _logical_?) reasoning she could come up for her sudden insanity strike was due to this body.

_Irrational madness, thy name is Uchiha._

With gritted teeth and a determination to  _never_   **never**   _never_ fall to the Curse of Hatred (she  _must_  learn to ignore the squeezing of her heart. She must not allow herself to be consumed by the  _overwhelming_  grief and fall into darkness), she pushed herself to her feet and staggered into a random direction.

She needed to keep herself busy. She didn't have time to waste on lamentation and hypothesizes (she needed to be clinical and rational), what with this body urgently needing consumables and rest. From what she knows of the anime, chakra depletion was a  _nasty_  condition. Furthermore, the injuries she sustained were getting worse - she needed to disinfect, or at least, clean them.

When she spotted a few red and white capped mushrooms at the base of a tree a few minutes later, she stared unseeingly at them as she weighed the pros and cons of eating something that may or may not be detrimental to her health.

As a stereotypical city dwelling otaku, she was balls at identifying edible fauna. Aa, how she dearly wished to be in Torikoverse rather than Narutoverse.  _She would_ kill _for a cloverger right now..._

With a dejected sigh, she decided that no, she should not eat any mushrooms, no matter how tempting they appeared to be. Especially those bright ones that kept winking seductively at her stomach. The organ in question grumbled at her (wise) decision.

_Maybe she was going at it wrong...?_

Obviously, with her limited knowledge of vegetation, she should be searching for a river or lake. Those would be filled with fish, and fishes would definitely satiate her shriveling stomach. Not to mention combat her dehydration.

This body was trying its very best to survive (if this was  _hers_ , it would've already gone cold), but slowly, ever so slowly, it was shutting down due to the lack of substances and the fluid and electrolytes imbalance. Her heart rate had sped up considerably as the blood loss took its toll. Sooner than later, she would go into hypovolemic shock.

At that highly unpleasant thought, her fingers twitched closer to her hip pouches, but she resisted the urge to pull out her cigarette case, knowing that she needed as much oxygen as possible right now. Nicotine addiction could wait until she wasn't dying.

As her eyes continuously kept a lookout for a water source, she suddenly stopped, her head tilted slightly to the left as she listened with vivid attention, even holding her breath in order to hear clearly. When she heard the slightest of splashes, she bit her lip to hold in the joy.

Despite feeling like death was looming over her pathetic form, she did her best to trod into the direction of the water source whilst simultaneously trying to avoid stepping over fallen twigs and dry leaves, not wanting to alert any living creatures near her.

The walk towards the source was slow, but she persevered until she was standing on the very edge of a river, the water clear of thrash and full of life. There was a small waterfall - the reason why he was even able to find her way over - though she ignored it in favor of dropping to her knees and scooping a handful of water.

Even though she knew that drinking unfiltered or unpurified water was something not to be done, damn the consequences. Hopefully, chakra would be more than enough to keep her immune system strong that she wouldn't acquire diarrhea or something along those lines.

And wow. Water has never tasted so _delicious_.

She drank slowly, knowing that if she rushed, her stomach would rebel. After a few more minutes of having her fill, she sat on her bum and started to tug on her clothes. It was painful due to the blood crusts so she plunged her whole upper body into the river.

Grime and hardened blood washed away, the cold water numbing the constant aches and pains, leaving behind only ugly gashes to be seen. Honestly, it was as if someone had put her whole limb into a paper shredder or shredded it with a cheese grater, the skin barely intact as it was.

Once she felt the crusts soft enough, she hissed out a mouthful of offensive words and struggled out of her torn and bloodied clothing, feeling embarrassingly self-conscious even though she didn't have anything to be ashamed of - if the abdomen muscles were any indication (those defined six-packs,  _damn_ ). After that was done, she washed away the perspiration and allowed herself a moment of peace.

It was only when her right side started to burn again did she move to distract herself. When she peered into the waters, the wet teenager staring back at her was familiar as  _he_  was foreign. Uchiha Obito, roughly about fifteen years old (shouldn't he be thirteen, though?), had replaced her twenty-five-year-old  _female_  self.

Her good hand made a swipe at her cheeks, at her chest, at her eyes, at her hair, but no amount of water was able to wash away the reality of who she had turned into. There was no makeup to rub away, no contact lenses to remove, and no wig to take off. 

The reflection unnerved her, so she glared defiantly at the teenage boy, who glared back with equal ferocity. She couldn't help but flinch at how unstable he looked, which only made it all the more wrong when the reflection jerked back as if afraid, his expression twisted into something similar to a kicked puppy.

With a groan, she covered her ( _Obito's_?) eyes with her good hand and just...  _think_. Everything was too damn confusing.

First of all, if she had somehow  _possessed_  Obito's body (and _maybe_ booted the boy's soul out of his body), why was her cigarette casing still on her? Why was an object not linked directly to Obito be with her? Obito was not a chain smoker.  _It makes no sense!_ Had they merged? Was there an error in the displacement (the displacement in itself should be the error!). Something must've gone wrong somewhere. She just needed to find the connection.

Also, Obito in Kakashi Gaiden was  _thirteen_ , but this body looked  _fifteen_  no matter how much she tried to push down his age. And a fifteen-year-old Obito was already Tobi, with Senju cells and half his body artificial. So, again, _this makes no sense whatsoever!_ No matter what, she was a  _woman_. She refused to accept otherwise, the wrong genitalia notwithstanding.

Slowly, as to not aggravate her wounds further, she distractedly wore her clothes (she felt too uncomfortable to be naked in public), the goggles and leaf forehead protector being tucked into one of her ninja pouches due to the difficulty of tying them with one hand.

Not knowing what else to do, she pulled out a cigarette and lit it, inhaling the deadly fumes as her mind tried to process her discoveries. After a few more minutes of silence, she once again peered into the waters and pushed a small amount of chakra into her eyes.

Well, at least chakra came easily, she sneered, what with it being foreign to her back on Earth. The warmth itched, buzzed, and comforted her all at once.

The Sharingan activated without a fuss, crimson with three tomoe surrounding the pupil. Another push and they swirled almost lazily, changing into the Mangekyō Sharingan without any resistance. Ah, now she knew why this body was older. Obito activated his Mangekyō after witnessing Rin's death, and that was around fourteen, fifteen-ish.

She stopped the flow of chakra and closed her onyx (brown,  _not black,_ they should be  _brown_ ) eyes, suddenly tired of everything. Out of all the characters, she just had to go and take over one of the  _main antagonists_  of the anime. Although, perhaps, it shouldn't be that shocking. She was cosplaying as Obito, and she did, after all, contemplate the destruction of the world just an hour or so ago.

 _Fuck_. She was doomed.

The Curse of Hatred was something every Uchiha struggled with, and she knew it was something hard to conquer. Her desperate longing for Riku was so overpowering that her thoughts had turned into hatred so deep she almost lost herself to darkness. 

Now, at the very least, she knew what was wrong and would try to control her emotions better. Nobody would be able to replace her dear friend... but to avoid being consumed by the Curse, she needed to form _bonds_. She knew that. Of course, she did. Despite all the logic, a big part of her mind howled and rebelled.

This... was going to be _difficult_.

She blinked, and with much hesitancy, decided to head to Konoha. What better way to connect with others than to reform the bonds with this body's team? Besides, an Uchiha would be much safer there, and assuming that she was currently in the middle of the Third Shinobi War timeline, she desperately needed to avoid some major players in the anime.

For the top of her to-avoid-list, however, would be Kuro (fucking demonic manifestation that it was); since it would undoubtedly plant ideas into her head, and she doubted that she could resist the Eye of the Moon plan even knowing that the manifestation only wanted to use people as its pawn. Even now, she wanted to go ahead with it. With its help, maybe, just _maybe_ , she would be able to see Riku again and--

NO! Stop!

She physically slapped herself to rid her head of those  _foolish_  thoughts. She would rather face reality than live in an illusionary world, dammit!

Konoha. She needed to go to Konoha. No matter what, Team Minato would always accept Obito. And judging by how she had awoken surrounded by boulders, she could only assume that the Kannabi Bridge mission was recent enough ~~(plainly ignoring that she had the memories of Rin's _last moment_ playing in a loop in her head).~~ Meaning that she would be able to save Rin from death and spare Kakashi from having that accursed label; _Friend-killer._

She giggled slightly in hysterics. It would be like a ghost returning home. Hopefully, she would not be mind-fucked by a Yamanaka thinking her a spy. Although she knew that her Sharingan might help if that was the case. The Mangekyō Sharingan's illusional properties were (kinda) limitless, and her imagination, as an otaku, was at a master's level. 

With a plan ready for the future, she focused on the present; which was food.

Unexpectedly enough, this body has reflexes that made it easier to catch fish. A Katon later (after many  _many_  attempts that resulted in fainting twice) and she began eating. She didn't even care that they tasted like charcoal; she was simply happy at being able to eat her fill.

As she ate, she pondered over the pros and cons of removing her left eye. It would make the story of her survival more believable if she was missing the eye Obito had gifted to Kakashi. However, she didn't want to lose an advantage. A pair was definitely better than one - and Obito's have always been overpowered.

With just with one eye, Obito was able to kick so many arses. Not to mention forcefully controlling Kurama at the tender age of fifteen. Imagine if the man had both his eyes during the early stages? She couldn't help but shudder at the realization of how much potential this body contained.

 _Obito_  had been a late bloomer. His lack of self-control made canon Obito a weak genin and chunin, and as evidenced by Tobi pulling many strings from the shadows, motivation and discipline was the key element to being a formidable shinobi that fought _by_ and _against_ Uchiha Madara.

And personally, not including Madara and Sasuke, she thought Obito to be the strongest Uchiha in existence by the end of the anime. Madara was simply too overpowered; even Kishimoto-sama admitted he had a hard time killing the bastard off. Sasuke, well, that guy was simply a cheat; what with being the main character's equal. Uchiha Itachi... Came close to being the top Uchiha. If the prodigious Uchiha was not sick, he would have been the main powerhouse that could rival (and overtake with no issue) Sasuke. 

Since she was currently in Obito's body, with both eyes intact, and was at the age when he was able to fight Minato to a stalemate (disregarding the original Obito taking hostages)...

With a slightly demented giggle, she covered her eyes with a palm and hunched into herself. The world was so fucked if she were to be seduced into the dark side. The anime would have been better off without Obito manipulating every single person to do his bidding.

Never before has she been so tempted to perform hara-kiri for sins she didn't even commit. Or maybe that was just the prospect; the potential that she could fuck things up so badly due to her knowledge of the future. If Kuro were to get ahold of her foreknowledge, the world would be beyond saving since Kuro would just prevent Naruto's birth. Without the main character's Therapy no Jutsu, the world was utterly _doomed_.

Shite. Her thoughts were becoming more and more jumbled, more depressing.

Were suicidal thoughts a sign that the Curse of Hatred was eating her from the inside out? She was beginning to hate herself (this body), after all.

Seeing that she was spiraling out of control, she physically pushed herself to her feet and glared at the sky in defiance. She refused to lose her mind. She refused to be devoured by the Curse of Hatred. She refused to lay down and die without trying to find a way back home. 

With a snarl, she hobbled over to a hollowed tree and hid inside the darkness, prioritizing rest to get better. She sat with her legs outstretched and closed her eyes, intending to sleep. A healthy body was a healthy mind. Afterward, she would practice her chakra control and eyes. She needed, at the very least, to be able to protect herself. Or access the Kamui dimension in order for tactical retreats.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me hear your thoughts (o'ｕ≦o)
> 
> P.S. Just a reminder that Yumiko, the OC, is an adult woman trapped in the body of a fifteen-year-old boy. So she still considers herself as a female and uses She/Her pronoun, even though others would mistaken her for a male and refer to her as He/Him. Due to her insecurities and self-consciousness, she will not correct them - at least, not in the near future.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Never assume anything ¯\\_༼ ಥ ‿ ಥ ༽_/¯

_Danger_.

That was the first thought that registered in her half-conscious state. She didn't know why exactly she was jolted awake, but some kind of sixth sense in her  _screamed_  for her to  _move dammit move!_

Not even questioning it, she rolled to her left - and just in the nick of time, too. A black paw, deadly and covered in wiry muscles, landed heavily on her recently vacated spot, causing dirt and grass to be dug and dust clouds to irritate her throat.

Her eyes warily trailed the fur-covered limb until she saw two rows of razor sharp, bloodstained fangs that were covered in an unnerving amount of saliva. She would've praised the graceful predator for its shiny black coat any other day. Now, however, she was too busy fearing for her life, her heart running a marathon.

She swallowed, throat and mouth dry, wary of making any sudden movements in fear that the fucking  _giant panther_  would jump at her.

The panther was, thankfully ( _or not,_ a small part of her whispered hysterically), too massive to fit into the entrance of the hollow hole she had childishly named Temp Home Base (THB). Its claws retracted as it dragged its powerful right paw out of her base, staring at her with hunger filled eyes. She could only see its snarling face and a quarter of its body from her position inside of the THB, ferocious enough to give her a heart attack.

"Good kitty... Good, good kitty... I'm pawsitive I'm nothing more than meat and bones, so, please,  _please_  spare me like a good kitty," She murmured in a faint warble, her left hand fingering one kunai she had - at one point of time somewhen - extracted from her thigh holster.

Said kitty must've understood that she was severely weakened and lacked the strength to defend herself (and took her words for 'itadakimasu') because it suddenly growled, muscles bunching. It was a split second, only a small amount of time, and her brain lovingly procured graphic images of her being torn to shreds and eaten whilst still alive as if to encourage her to do something.

Those purrfectly realistic images definitely didn't help. In fact, they did the opposite. Her whole frame trembled, refusing to cooperate even as her sight sharpened to an almost painful degree, watching with anticipated dread as the paw descended on her in slow motion.

Just as those sharpened claws brushed dangerously against the tip of her nose, cutting slightly into her skin, the world  _twisted_. The body that she was currently (temporarily? Permanently?) residing in landed onto hard ground, limbs spread eagle, and destination unknown but out of the forest, everything looking far too dull and grey to be anywhere near woodland.

She, however, didn't care for all those  _tiny_  details.

The first thing she registered was that she was still feline alive. The next was the excruciating pain radiating from the back of her eyes and temples region. She dropped the kunai in favor of swiftly covering her eyes with her working palm, groaning pitifully as it did nothing to elevate the pounding in her head.

She felt herself crying, but it did little to soothe the dryness of her eyes. A small portion of her was yelling hysterically for her to fucking open them and  _ohgoddon'tstopmoving_ , frightened and skittish of the possible dangers the panther could still bring to her life, and closing her eyes would only reduce her chances of survival.

Another part of her, however, a bigger one, made her curl into a foetal position, trying to physically block out any light from entering her (hyper) sensitive organ of sight. It was torture. And she feared she had blinded herself temporarily from the feeling of warm blood leaking out from her eye sockets.

A detached part of her analyzed the cold facts of what had happened and told her that she had somehow activated Kamui. And that was both bad and good. The good part was that she was still alive thanks to it. The bad part was that she had probably overloaded the eyes with chakra in her panic state and ruptured the blood vessels, making the chakra pathway swell.

She had planned to practice these eyes, of course, but  _not like_   _this_. Recklessly. She still didn't know if this body contained Hashirama's cells, but she had a dreadful feeling that it didn't. There were no instances of heightened regeneration for one.

She gritted her teeth, blew out a frustrated breath, and uncurled this body, already the pain her entire right side was feeling had dulled to an endurable level. At least, she grimly thought, this body's pain tolerance was helping her somewhat.

With closed eyelids, she pawed the ground for the discarded kunai - all the whilst cataloging the difference between the grassy undertones and the smooth texture of this possibly Kamui dimension - and cried in triumph when her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the weapon. No matter how useless she was in a fight, being armed was better than being weaponless.

She fumbled slightly to reholster the kunai, only to nick her outer thighs twice before managing. With a grunt, she pushed herself to her feet and stumbled unsteadily until she was leaning heavily against a wall - or if this really was the Kamui dimension, an oversized grey cube.

As much as this body protested to her rough treatment, she ignored it to pace (it wasn't even her body, anyway. Why should she care about its comfort?). Pacing helped her  _think_ , and in this case, she could do not much but plan for all possible contingencies. Since she was out of danger, for now, she could relax marginally and allow herself some breathing space.

It was only after a few minutes did she try to lift her eyelids that were heavily crusted in dry blood. Blinking a couple of times to clear her vision, she squinted and hummed at the sights before her. She was, indeed, in the Kamui dimension. Grey cubes of various sizes were present everywhere, though it wasn't indefinitely. The horizons were cut off by walls of darkness, as if she was currently inside a giant cube that contained smaller cubes that acted as platforms.

It was...  _peculiar_ , to put it bluntly. And it tickled her desire to experiment. But she pushed those aside for now. She needed to prioritize.

First of all, she needed to know if she could activate the Mangekyō Sharingan whenever. And if she could, were there any side effects if done properly? It was a known fact to all Naruto fans that overuse would cause bleeding and blindness to occur, but would she simply leave it at that?  _Of course not_. She added into her mental checkbox that overloading her eyes with chakra causes them to pound painfully and haemorrhage profusely as well.

There was also a considerable drain of chakra whenever Kakashi uses it, so she would be all the more careful not to overdo it lest she be deprived of chakra. Unlike him, she wasn't anywhere near Konoha, nor was she surrounded by allies and comrades who would help her as soon as she fell unconscious due to chakra exhaustion.

If - and this was a big  _if_  - the Mangekyō deterioration was present in this body, she would be forced to act in a way that would leave her morality and ethical side squirming in discomfort. However, she was first and foremost, a selfish person who would put herself before others. Besides, the Uchiha were plentiful. Capturing one or two alive for her own use won't hurt anyone, right?

But she shouldn't get ahead of herself. The chakra pathways in her eyes were far too raw for her to practice or even activate the Sharingan right now. So with that in mind, she slowly lowered herself to the ground and leaned back against one of the giant cubes. She stared at her left palm in semi-trance, using it as a focal point to meditate on the chakra in her abdomen.

The energy within her moved like an eager puppy. It coiled and danced through her pathways, leaving her skin tingling pleasantly, hyperaware of their presence and activity. She wished she had the foresight to gather leaves before retreating into the THB, but whatever. She would make do. That wasn't the only chakra control exercise available.

With concentration that left her sweating, she moved the chakra in this body to spin in a tight spiral. It was at first a jerky maneuvering, but with perseverance and time, she managed to smoothly manipulate the chakra so that they would cooperate enough for her to form chakra strings.

They were thick and crude and not at all refined like those Suna puppeteers she saw in the anime. But that was to be expected. She was a rookie, even if this body had years of fine-tuning, she was mentally still a beginner. She didn't know for how long she practiced, but it was not until her stomach made a noise of complaint did she stop.

She was wary (and with good reason to be) of leaving her safe haven, however. What if that apex predator was still lurking outside her THB, waiting for her to reappear? She doubted that it was  _that_  intelligent, but her fear made her irrationally paranoid.

She wished she had a training manual or something for the workings of the Kamui teleportation and intangibility abilities, but alas, nothing could ever be that easy for her.

Life was unfair and as it was unkind.

With a meticulous application, she guided a small amount of chakra to her eyes, wincing at the sharp throb of introducing it to the raw and swollen pathways.

The activation of the first stage of the Sharingan went as she expected. After a few seconds of nothing happening, she exhaled in relief. Her muscles, however, were tensed as she prepared to activate the second stage of this body's Kekkei Genkai, preparing herself for the knife piercing pain as she gently pushed more chakra into her eyes.

It was instantaneous.

Her vision had not only improved outstandingly, there were also weirdly distortions in the air everywhere. They were odd yet fascinating, but she didn't have time to study them carefully. The agony made her tear up, and she just knew she was crying bloody tears once again.

She instinctively pictured the river, and for a second, she feared her efforts were for naught. Thankfully, her world twirled and she landed outside the Kamui dimension by the river on her feet unsteadily, unused to the method of travel. She did, however, take notice within a span of a few seconds that one of the distortions near her had opened and swallowed her up.

It made sense - in a weird and illogical kind of way. That she was able to see space-time dimensional portals, that was.

As soon as she was made aware of the lack of a giant panther anywhere near her, she swiftly but gently tugged the chakra from her eyes and dropped to her knees, heaving in discomfort and mental exhaustion. Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she grimaced at the slimy texture of blood.

At least now she knows that she could activate the Mangekyō whenever.

With a sigh, he washed her hand, drank a few mouthfuls, and cleaned her face, feeling relief when the cold water numbed the pain albeit only slightly. When she wasn't wincing with every blink she took, she decided that it was enough to focus on getting brunch. She pulled out a kunai, and without even conscious effort, this body moved on autopilot. With a flick of her left wrist, the kunai sailed through the air and skewered two fishes in one go.

"Double kill," She gave a wobbly smile as she tried to distract herself from thoughts of how this body had been trained to kill since young.

She waddled into the waters to retrieve her kill before she started to clean them. She hummed as she worked to cook her dinner. This time, she didn't just spit out a fireball at the get-go. She painstakingly gathered dry twigs and used rocks to form a campfire.

With precise and dextrous fingers, she formed hand seals with only her working hand (benefits of being a die-hard Naruto fan) and breathed in deeply, her chest expanding as she spat, "Katon: Goukakyuu no Jutsu."

The fireball was utterly pathetic; not even a basketball in size. Maybe it could pretend to be a decent enough golf ball if she squinted hard enough and gave it the benefit of doubt. The pitiful excuse of a 'great' fireball, however, worked well enough to set the campfire alight.

After ten minutes or so of cooking the two fishes over the fire, she ate them with gusto, not minding the bland (and  _slightly_  blackened) flavor. Now that her stomach was sated, she decided it was time to experiment,  _uh_ , she meant practice, on the volunteers.

Catching those slimy aquatic creatures were more difficult than simply skewering them, but she managed after a few tries. She used her kunai to cut into one of the fishes' sides before holding it down with one knee, its gill semi-submerged into the waters to keep it alive. She then started to concentrate her chakra into her palm to extend it into the fish's body to try and heal it.

The result was quite...  _explosive_.

She grimaced as she wiped the fish guts from her face.

"You have cod to be kidding me... Should've let minnow if you couldn't handle that much chakra." She huffed as she grabbed another flopping fish, "Don't worry, little buddy, I'll dolphinately do better this time."

The fish didn't agree with her by the way it flailed harder.

 _Rude_.

* * *

It took her nine fishes before she succeeded in turning her chakra green. Seven more before they didn't explode. Five before their cuts started to heal (albeit at a snail's pace that caused the lot of them to die from blood loss). And three to close up their cuts entirely.

By then, she had already burnt through a small portion of her cigarettes. Oh, and it was already time for a late dinner.

She cleaned and skewered the fishes that were intact enough to cook over the campfire, before devouring them like a starved beast. Chakra manipulation and practice made her insanely hungry. Thank gods this body's reserves were big enough and its recovery rate good enough for her to be able to use them continuously without much worry for complete exhaustion.

Of course, she wasn't a genius or something as equally bullshite. This body was already a chuunin before she overrode it (and probably killed the original Obito whilst at it), so it was simply her getting used to it. Like one would get used to wearing a pair of newly bought stilettos - uncomfortable enough that it took some time to get used to walking in them without tripping badly, but familiar enough due to having previously worn another pair.

She wasn't confident that she would heal fast enough to travel to Konoha without getting eaten by a predator or killed by a wayward nukenin, thus the reason for her desire to learn the Mystic Palm Technique. And, to be completely honest, she was more comfortable at the thought of becoming a Medic-nin than a fighter. She had been a paramedic before all this had happened, after all.

And  _maybe,_ just maybe, it was because she didn't want this body to become too powerful lest she be tempted to continue those stupid thoughts of wanting the world to burn.

Damn Uchiha body...

After her meal, she gathered a bunch of small leaves to use for future chakra control exercises and a bush to cover the entrance of her THB. She would've entered Kamui to feel safer as she slept, but that would be a superfluous use of her eyes, pretty much unorthodox and excessive. Not to mention the risk of strain and deterioration.

With a wary gaze at the entrance, she huddled as far behind as possible inside the THB and raised her left hand. Concentrating on it though still keeping outward awareness, she manipulated her chakra into her palm and made it green. She then brought her palm to her right ankle and focused on healing it.

Mobility was the most crucial to her survival right now. Bruised organs and the use of her upper limb could wait.

She was sweating bullets by the end of the healing session. Even then, she had not managed to heal the bone completely, not wanting to risk more than half her chakra in case of an emergency was to occur. Although it was indeed enough to move around with slight discomfort.

A sigh later and she relaxed her muscles, her eyelids drooping in exhaustion. Hopefully, she would not be seeing that apex predator anytime soon.

* * *

A whole month was continued as such. Thank Jashin there was a lack of predators in her immediate area (that damn panther being a one-time occurrence). She hadn't used Kamui ever since (disregarding that one failed attempt at teleporting to Konoha) and was feeling much better now that the chakra coils surrounding her eyeballs were healed.

She manages her days wisely. Most of her time was spent on chakra control exercises, mastering the Sharingan, and rehabilitating the muscles of this body (though she was kinda ruining Obito's hard work with her bad habits. Not that she cared. This wasn't her body). Healing herself via the Mystique Palm Technique was done every night until she was as good as healthy as she could get.

The  _scarring_ , however, was unavoidable.

She would have liked to think of herself as someone who cared not about such superficial and shallow things... but that was impossible. She, just like any other women, cared about face (skincare was a common thing in the modern world. It was scientifically proven that the more good looking one was, the higher their chances of getting promoted). Men might've brushed these off and deem them worthy souvenirs - handsome and impressive even, but her? No. Just...  _No_.

The scars weren't as grotesque as canon!Obito's, thankfully. They didn't pull or fold her skin downwards like his did, but they did cover the entire of the right side of her face, down to her neck, chest, and arm. They made her appear similar to a victim of a psychopathic pyromaniac with the obsession of burning people's skin off.

Think of Balalaika from Black Lagoon - real life (cosplay) edition.

Unlike that particular anime character, however, she wasn't confident enough to wear these scars with nonchalance pride, using it as an intimidation factor to make those below of her cower. No, she wanted to be  _pretty_  ( _she wanted to be a woman_ ) but average enough to fade into the background and parade around unnoticed by the world.

When even healing chakra failed to stop the scarring, she immediately made plans to hide it from view. The less eye-catching she was the better. The fewer people that could remember her by the better.

(And if the main reason to cover it was that she was vain, that she was ashamed of her imperfections, that would be a secret.)

Despite the dislike of having hair fall into her face, she used chakra to grow out her bangs (thank you Jiraiya) to be used as a shield. It, however, has an unfortunate side effect of making her look like a younger version of Madara - what with the chin-length bangs that framed and covered the entire of her right face.

Thanks to that particular fact, she bluntly decided to keep the rest of her hair short (no need to give Madara any other reason to want her). Being a direct descendant[1] was a pain. Obito was also unfortunate enough to be cursed with Madara's talents and attractive looks.

Ah, with each passing day and every revelation, she began to loathe this body more and more. Not only was it  _male_ , it also has  _family problems_  and  _genetic disorders_. She blamed inbreeding. And the world in general. Also Masashi Kishimoto.

She sneered and stomped on the puddle she was peering at with a vengeance, not wanting to look at how repulsive this body and face was. Why couldn't it be more feminine? Softer? More like  _hers_?

With pursed lips, she reached for her cigarette case... only to remember that she had been out since the very first week.

_Fuck._

Kneading the bridge of her nose, she sighed and decided to continue her journey. Oh, and avoid reflective surfaces from now on lest she loses control and starts destroying shite.

With an activated Sharingan, she jumped onto the tallest tree she could see and ran up its length, only stopping when she reached the highest point. She stood at its top with cat-like grace. This body's level of fitness, flexibility, and balance was definitely something she could have never achieved back in her world.

The forest seemed never-ending, but thanks to her eyes, she was able to spot a dense amount of chakra signatures just south-west from her. With chakra enhancing the muscles of her legs, she leaped down onto a sturdy branch and dashed through the treetops at an exhilarating speed that would make any athletes from her world burn with jealousy.

It was ten minutes into her travel did she arrive at her short-term destination; a small village. She was perched like a gargoyle on a random rooftop, watching the people as they moved and chatted with one another without a care in the world, their faces and body language showing that they were relaxed and unguarded.

She surmised that the war must've ended by how peaceful they were acting.

There didn't seem to be anybody with matured chakra reserves ( _or they hid it well enough,_  she notioned suspiciously) or wearing durable or shinobi clothing, so she assumes that there weren't any ninjas currently frolicking about. That made it easier for her to sneak into a few shops and blacksmiths to swipe a few sets of clothes and ninja equipment to replace her current one.

Again, she was a selfish creature so she didn't bother to feel guilty. Besides, she was doing the world a favor. Her current outfit (a month of using the same clothes) stank so badly that even skunks would be repulsed. As soon as she was done with her shopping, she re-entered the forest and immediately shrugged off her Obito cosplay.

She smiled as she put on her new outfit.

They were an ankle-length dark blue kimono with sleeves that were long enough to flow past her fingers and hide the armguards strapped around her forearms, dark pants underneath since she wasn't a flasher, socks, and a pair of knee-high combat boots. The scarf, as well as the kimono's sash, was a burnt orange in color.

The ninja pouches were hooked to the back of her sash (after she happily refilled them full of non-ninja shites. The right pouch contained many boxes of cigarettes, whilst the left pouch had tobacco for her newly acquired kiseru pipe) and the kunai holster was strapped to her right thigh, hidden behind the folds of her kimono. Her forehead protector, unlike Obito, was currently tied loosely around her neck, concealed by her scarf.

With a nod, she combed a hand through her spiky hair as she pocketed a storage scroll that contained another three sets of her current outfit. She decided that this would officially be her attire for an undetermined amount of time - or until she got the Konoha standard issued attire all chuunin and jounin were given.

She idly wondered if she could take the jounin exam upon her return and work at the hospital or retire from being a shinobi altogether.

Before she re-entered the small village, however, she spat out a fireball at her Obito cosplay outfit, watching with immense satisfaction as it crumbled to ashes. There was a legit reason, of course; and not because she was becoming a pyromaniac. It was to save the wildlife from dying from the stench of month old rags, obviously.

Whilst walking down the streets, she pick-pocketed a wallet from an arrogant looking arsehole as she made her way towards a dango shop she had previously spotted whilst searching for clothes, an unexpected craving for her who preferred bitter things.

As she settled herself inside the dango shop, her back against the wall and the entrance in full sight, she scanned the interior out of habit. People watching has always been her favorite past-time whenever she went out to eat with Riku.

... The remembrance of her absent best friend, however, made her chest tighten painfully, but she roughly pushed those memories aside when a waitress came over, a cheerful grin on her soft features. The waitress was quite the looker, which made her finger the ugly scar that was hidden behind her curtain of hair in a self-conscious manner.

"Irasshaimase!" The waitress welcomed with a polite bow.

"I'd like three sticks of an-dango, five sticks of mitarashi dango and another five of hanami dango, please." she gave the younger female a small smile (albeit strained if one looked closely enough) and stated her orders politely. She might have felt uncomfortable about being near someone who was clearly considered a beauty, but she wasn't uncurbed enough to show her discomfort.

"Certainly! I'll return within a few moments with your orders." The waitress gave another bow before skipping away, her pinkish cheeks and pouty lips making many of the male teenage customers stare at her with longing.

_Ah, to be that young..._

With a small amused smirk at the teenagers' love-sick gazes, she pulled out a box of cigarettes and lit up a stick, inhaling deeply like a drowning person. It instantly brought forth a wave of relaxing effects, her muscles loosening as she exhaled.

It didn't take long for the waitress to reappear with a tray in one hand and an ashtray in another.

"Thank you for waiting! Here are your orders; three an-dango, five mitarashi dango, and five hanami dango." The waitress retrieved three plates from her tray, a glass of water, and the ashtray and placed them in a neat line on the table, "That'll be a total of 245 ryō, please."

She handed the waitress the correct amount and nodded in thanks. The pretty waitress bowed once more before leaving when another person called for her.

She was half-way through her cigarette when a duo caught her attention. If she had not already exhaled all the smoke in her lungs, she would be choking on them right now. The only reaction she outwardly showed, however, was a blink of her eyes as she turned her head away as calmly as she could manage.

Why?

Oh, no particular reason. Just that  _Uchiha Itachi_  and  _Hoshigaki Kisame_  were the ones who entered the shop.

It seems her speculation on the timeline was wrong. Dead wrong indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please let me hear your thoughts (o'ｕ≦o)
> 
>  **[1]** In my headcanon, Obito is Madara's direct descendant. This idea is related to how Obito called Madara his "honorable forefather" once in the canon. And it just stuck. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	5. Chapter 5

_'Ok, me. Don't freak. Play it cool. You're just another paying customer eating dango. Nothing to worry about.'_ Kept replaying in her mind like a broken tape recorder.

She made sure that it was her covered side that faced the entrance as she stared unblinkingly at the other customers to her left, not daring to audaciously broadcast the visible portion of her face in the case that Itachi - this body's baby  _cousin_  - somehow sees the obvious Uchiha resemblance between them.

The cigarette dangling in between her lips was used for meditative purposes as she metaphorically inhaled all of her anxiety and exhaled them along with the cloud of thick smoke.

Woefully enough, it  _wasn't_  working like it normally  _should've_. Did Narutoverse produce weed or marijuana? If so, where could she get some of 'em?

...Her mind sure was finding many interesting ways to distract her from reality.

Calm. She needed to remain calm to not do something stupid. Calm. Calm calm calm calmcalmcalmcalmmmmhmmmmoooohhhmmmmuuuu...

It wasn't working,  _dammit why wasn't it working?!_

Stubbing what was left of her cigarette into the ceramic ashtray, she grabbed one of the dango sticks and bit into the rounded dessert snack in a manner befitting of someone having a mental breakdown - or in other words; she tore through the balls with the grace of a catatonic zombie, monotonous and without a will.

Just as she blindly reached for another stick, the waitress strode to her table, into her sights and explained rather pleadingly about something to do about the lack of seats and if she could  _please share her table and let them dine with her?_ or something along those lines.

To be rather truthful, she was so out of it that she didn't realize she had agreed until Itachi and Kisame had seated themselves on the opposite seats directly from her. The waitress thanked her profusely with tomato-red cheeks as she stared boldly at Itachi's pretty face (or what could be seen under that ugly hat which she didn't know the technical name of).

Never has she wanted to stab herself with a fucking dango stick this badly before. Not only did she build her own coffin, she dug her own grave whilst at it.

But she hoped (rather pathetically) that she was simply overreacting due to her nerves and paranoia. If Itachi was here, that meant that the Uchiha Massacre had happened - which meant the original Obito should be  _officially_  dead, basically a phantom, and supposedly in his twenties and not his teens.

Oh, and there was this  _insane hypothesis_  running circles inside her brain about a Tobi, which, she might add, was  _not_   _her_  and was currently (and literally) prancing around pulling the strings of many organizations and villages and planning the destruction of the world and  _ohgodRin'sdeadMinato'sdeadKushina'sdeadNaruto'sanoprhanZetsu'slurkingsomewhere-_

 _Hahahahahaha_...

There was another Uchiha Obito (did she even  _want_  to call herself Obito?) running amok. That sure skewered her logic to hell and back.

Inner-her was in the corner of her mind, hugging her knees as she rocked herself back and forth to prevent the hysterical breakdown from cracking through her subconscious and preconscious and whatever else layer of consciousness there was whilst outer-her chewed the dango desserts mechanically and impassively, head still turned away from the two S-Rank nukenin.

She, once again, stood her point; she was loathing every revelation she gained with each passing day. Along with this  _fucking_  body. Jashin dammit why  _this_  body of  _all_  bodies? She seriously wouldn't have minded being a Sakura right now. Or, you know, a random no-name  ** _kunoichi,_**  thank you very mochi.

Seeing that the dango tasted like nothing but ash on her tongue, she decided to eat something that tasted better - which were tobacco and nicotine sticks, obviously.

As she bit the butt of a newly retrieved cigarette and pulled out her lighter, she didn't quite manage to light it up due to someone clearing their throat. She had no other choice but to turn her head slightly so that she could see what the fuck the person wanted.

Better to not ignore the two dangerous shinobi who could kill her within a split second.

Seeing that they have her attention, Itachi was the one who spoke (shocker) with a quiet yet authoritative voice, "Thank you for sharing a table with us. If it isn't much of a bother, would it be possible of you to refrain from smoking while we are here?"

_Ah, right._

Didn't Itachi have some kind of lung disease?

Seeing that she was aiming to be a Medic-nin (or a civilian if she couldn't), she was awfully curious. With her knowledge of modern medicine, would it be possible to cure him if she knew which illness ails him? Was the disease anything like TB; spread via droplets but was manageable and curable with the right medication or not contagious but incurable?

"It is of no issue." She answered evenly, thankful that her voice didn't strain or break. She then slid the cigarette stick back into its box and pocketed it.

Without it to distract her from her unhealthy oral fixation, she went back to eating her dango (which still tasted like ash if anyone was wondering). Despite wanting to leave as soon as possible, she chewed at a moderate and leisurely pace, not wanting to clue the two shinobi that something was amiss.

Ninjas were a paranoid bunch. Even the smallest of breadcrumbs would alert them that there was a bakery somewhere nearby. Not exactly the analogy she was going for, but she was currently too frazzled to think of anything smarter than that.

The former Kiri-nin was giving her a shark-like toothy grin, triangular fangs and all. Even though she was anxious to remove herself from their presence, she couldn't help but be intrigued by Kisame. It perplexed her how a human could look so much like a shark-human hybrid; with such otherworldly blue-grey skin and beady eyes.

In the anime, she could openly admit that he was a cool-looking guy. But in real life? it was pretty mind-boggling. She couldn't quite wrap it around her head and believe what she was seeing. Were his parents a breed of merfolk? Fishmen?

Genetics was so weird in the Narutoverse...

Itachi didn't speak after that, simply staring at her with a fixed gaze. She looked away as casually as she could manage and proceeded to continue people-watching. She would pretend that she wasn't sweating bullets as she ate her dessert.

And if her speed had increased slightly, well, she was sure nobody could guess the true reason for that, simply thinking her wanting to leave faster to smoke. The Akatsuki was known as simply a mercenary group for hire before the start of the series, their members and goal unknown. Nothing she did should have tipped them off.

But they were shinobi for a reason.

She could feel Itachi's abyss-like eyes drilling a hole into the side of her skull. The way those dark eyes analyzed every twitch of her muscles, every breath she took, and every unspoken body language... was eerie. She felt like an experimental cell under a microscope. To be studied then discarded when found worthless, or to be kept for further analysis when deemed interesting.

"Thank you for waiting! Here are your orders, sirs! That'll be a total of 500 ryō, please."

The waitress (bless her soul) grabbed the attention of the two nukenin. She placed their orders in front of them whilst smiling bashfully, her eyes not straying from the infamous Uchiha for reasons that should probably be left unsaid.

After Itachi handed the waitress the money, she batted her eyes as she left, her gait more suggestive as her hips swayed, attracting the gazes of the civilian males all around her. Just by the customers' shameless reactions, she could accurately guess why this particular dango restaurant was packed. The waitress being the golden goose of this place was a no-brainer.

Kisame snorted at the blatant display of seduction but didn't say anything. He was quick to attack his plate of dango, but not before removing that ridiculous hat from his head and leaning Samehada against the wall next to him, within easy reach.

The majority of the customers and staff paid no heed to the slashed forehead protector, probably used to having nukenins passing by. Civilians usually cared not about those kinds of stuff, unlike their shinobi counterparts.

Itachi, however, didn't follow his partner's example of removing his hat. He only unbuttoned his high collar for easier access before tentatively taking a bite of his dango. She was hyperaware of their movements, her stomach clenching uncomfortably when she felt those piercing pair of eyes on her once again.

Seriously, she inwardly lamented, what did she do to have this prodigy's focus on her? She doubted that agreeing to share a table was something worth taking note of. Perhaps it was her appearance? No, that would be paranoia talking - she obviously has not revealed the visible portion of her face.

Then... was it, perhaps, her chakra signature? It was just her luck if that was the reason for their sudden arrival into this dango restaurant (although she did take Itachi's love for dango into the equation, she doubted he was desperate enough to share a table with a complete stranger. Again, ninjas were a paranoid bunch. They would never voluntarily dine with a stranger unless there was some kind of profit, to complete a mission, or a hidden motive).

She hasn't yet figured out how to hide her chakra signature. And she had not bothered with attempting it previously. Fuck her carelessness. She should've been more vigilant! This mistake was too painful - but it was a lesson learned nonetheless.

And if her assumptions proved true, that there was another Obito running around masquerading as Madara, she was truly out of luck. She knew that Itachi had come into contact with ' _Madara'_ many times, so she was praying that her Tobi-flavored chakra would be marked off as her being a bastard child of an Uchiha or something.

For now, she pretended to be ignorant of everything and finished her last dango swiftly (thank Jashin. She couldn't stomach another even if she tried). The second she discarded the stick, she pulled out her cigarette box whilst standing up, making it seem as if she were eager to smoke rather than flee from them.

The Akatsuki duo didn't say or do anything since she was technically just another stranger, and besides, Kisama was busy with stuffing himself silly whilst Itachi... Well, she didn't dare face him so his thoughts and actions were unknown. His eyes, however, could still be felt drilling into her very being as she made her way out of the small dango restaurant.

It was only when she turned the corner did the oppressing feelings from those bottomless eyes disappear. She exhaled in sweet relief, lit up a cigarette, and quickly blended into the crowd, wanting to fade into the background as much as possible.

She definitely needed to go to a temple or something to cleanse her bad luck.

But before that...

"Konnichiwa! Excuse me, obaa-san, do you know the directions to Konoha?" She asked a random old lady that was walking down the streets, a sheepish grin on her face.

No matter the unexpected counter with the two Akatsuki members, her plans have yet to change. She would still go to Konoha and seek sanctuary. Not as Uchiha Obito, however, but as an unknown Uchiha civilian (after she manages to get her chakra hidden and at a civilian's level, of course). She planned to throw away her forehead protector afterward as well.

The old lady blinked her tiny eyes rapidly before smiling back in kind, "Konnichiwa, shounen. I do. The shortest path is to head south-east. Gradually, you will reach Konohagakure no Sato in a month. It is a straight route without many obstacles. Just be careful of bandits - many of them have made a home near the roads. They won't hesitate to rob or kidnap... especially a handsome young man such as yourself."

"Bandits, huh... I'll be sure to remain extra vigilant of my surroundings. Thank you for your help and concerns, obaa-san!" She bowed her head to hide the grimace on her face at being called a man. When she straightened and was about to leave, she paused before throwing yet another question in passing, "Is there a temple conveniently near here?"

"Oh, yes, of course. Just continue heading that way and you'll reach our village's temple within half an hour. You won't miss the obvious flight of stairs. Are you visiting to pray for a happy marriage?"

"A-ah, nothing that complicated. I'll see you around, obaa-san!"

As if her backside was on fire, she swiftly jumped onto a nearby rooftop, her legs already  _propelling_  her into the pointed direction as soon as her feet landed on the tiles.

She highly doubted that she would ever get married in the future (who would want _this version_  of her?) - unless she was miraculously turned back into a female and this face free from these horrid scars.

Previously, she had hoped to focus on her career to accumulate a mountain of wealth, meet a nice guy, continue cosplaying with Riku, get married to that nice guy she met, then live a happy, retired life with many cats and dogs.

It sucks that she would never be able to achieve that ideal dream. But that was life, always an unfair and cruel mistress. Only anime, food, and cigarettes could heal her broken heart.

With a sigh, she flicked away the bud of her cigarette, increased her speed and parkour through the roofs with every intention of working her muscles to their limits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter clears up some questions. Basically, she's an extra in this world. She miscalculated and assumed that Kakashi was her age, Rin and Minato were still alive, and that there wasn't another Obito since she took over his body. Thought that she could prevent all the disasters from happening and live a peaceful life. Obviously, she was dead wrong in all accounts (PLOT TWIST!!). I'm not telling you which timeline she's at, though. You'll know in the next chapter, so stay tuned! (￣▽￣)ゞ


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient with me m(_ _)m

She groaned petulantly as she shook her tired limbs, feeling worn out and sore from all the running she did (with breaks in between, of course).

Despite the little old lady telling her to 'continue heading that way', she had somehow gotten herself lost.  _Completely_  lost by the looks of it. All of the trees appeared far too similar for her to be able to maneuver around in one general direction. Hence, she could, with great shame, admit that she was pretty pathetic without a GPS on hand.

Once again, she couldn't help but lament on her horrid luck. Would she really be able to survive in this  _primitive_  world without Wifi-sama and Google-sensei to assist her in her activities of daily living? She doubted that  _so very much_. Why couldn't she had just perished in the traffic accident? She was sure that the afterlife would be less complicated than this.

After throwing out a few more muffled curses about how  _living_  was such a  _pain_ , she stared with desolated eyes at the twinkling stars above, a newly lit cigarette dangling in between her dry and cracked lips.

Stubborn she might be, but she knew the meaning of 'lost cause' when it was - figuratively speaking - shoved right down her oesophagus. The temple, a supposedly _half an hour_  journey from the rural village, was definitely  _nowhere_  near her now.

Conclusion: she should just sleep the night away and continue the search for Konoha in the morning.

With closed eyes, she took a deep drag from her cigarette, relishing the burns they gave to her lungs. Now that the urge to waste away was nulled by her relaxant agent, she stretched her back and readied herself to scale the nearest tree - they were comfier and safer to sleep on than the ground.

As soon as she opened her eyes, however, she had to bite back a yelp, her cigarette having fallen to the ground at the jumpscare she received.

She could feel her heart in her throat as it drums furiously with every breath she took, her feet having retreated several steps back from the person standing aloofly in front of her.

The nukenin simply stared, his dark eyes assessing. Not long after, he took a bold step forward, and then another. She was quick to counteract his actions by taking a step back, not wanting him to close the distance between them  _at all cost._

It was a futile struggle as her spine soon hit a dead end in the form of a tree.

Just as she was about to say fuck the consequences and make a run for it, a pair of toned, muscled arms pinned her in place. His knee was soon prodding her legs apart to impend on her mobility, causing her to feel more than a little exposed, her female mindset screaming bloody murder.

She swallowed her saliva with great difficulty as the Uchiha prodigy leaned forward until he was on eye-level with her, his long lashes brushing lightly against hers.

...  _Wait a second_?!

Wasn't this the famous  _kabe-don_?!

 _omigewdnesswtfbbq_ -

Her pupils were spinning round and round in confusion as she stood there, still as a statue, as a reddish hue decorated her cheeks. Despite being a hardened paramedic who has seen her fair share of (super dead and bloodied) naked guys on her job, she was still an otaku at heart - a nerd who has never been  _this_  close to a man before, within  _breathing_  distance (her best friend notwithstanding).

When she felt fingers brushing lightly against her forehead slowly pushing back her curtain of hair that hid her unsightly right side of her face, however, her skin immediately turned a shade paler as she trembled and ducked her head, avoiding his touch as she did not want her scarred face to be seen by such a beautiful person.

For a moment there was blissful silence, before...

"Look at me." At the assertive and authoritative command, her automated reaction as a paramedic was to follow through with the order.

When her sight connected with Itachi's Mangekyou-activated pair of eyes, however, she couldn't control this body's instinctual reaction at self-preservation. Her own pair of Sharingan eyes flared to life, the three tomoe symbols swirling round and round until Obito's version of the Mangekyou was counteracting Itachi's - the fear of being sucked into the world of Tsukuyomi was overwhelming her every sense.

The younger(?) Uchiha appeared unfazed, but if one looked close enough, they could tell that he was alarmed, confused, and astonished all at the same time.

Panicking as she knew that she has lost all chances of denying her relations to the Uchiha clan, she ignored all reasons that pointed to her next actions being an awful idea, turned 'intangible' and passed through the tree behind of her, not wanting to risk bringing Itachi along as she activated Kamui.

She faceplanted onto a grey prism upon entering Kamui's dimension, a pitiful groan escaping her lips. Her entire body felt like jell-o, all weak and wobbly.

"Stupid... Stupid, stupid, stupid."

Now that she was out of immediate danger, she couldn't help but reprimand herself for allowing panic to cloud her judgment. Rule number one of being a medic; to always keep your calm no matter the circumstances! And she failed that  _miserably_.

Even if this body's heritage was revealed, all Uchiha look somewhat alike. She shouldn't have shown him her eyes' powers! No Mangekyou has the same special ability. After this foolish performance of hers, Itachi, without a doubt, would link her to Tobi now ( _if_  there was a Tobi in this messed up Narutoverse) - perhaps even thinking her a clone of his or something!

This mistake should never be made ever again lest she desires the experience of being interrogated physically and mentally by a former-ANBU-turned-nukenin.

Not wasting another second, her (trembling) fingers expertly pulled out a cigarette and lit it, her lips sucking an extra lungful of smoke, and held her breath till she was on the verge of fainting.

This time, she managed to come out alive due to Itachi being too surprised to react. The next time, however, she knew that the chances of leaving the area alive were slim to none. Itachi, this body's younger cousin, would undoubtedly do anything to protect Sasuke.

And at the appearance of a new player in the chessboard with an ability that 'Uchiha Madara' (Tobi) has, Itachi would, of course, be cautious - and if she was being morbid, get rid of her.

 _What a truly disastrous day_ , she lamented as her body shuddered in fear, the adrenaline still coursing throughout her system. Whilst biting her lower lip to prevent a hysterical sob from escaping, she made herself as comfortable as she could manage on the floor and closed her eyes, hoping for some sort of miracle to happen.

* * *

Itachi pushed a palm lightly against the tree in front of him, confirming once more that it was non-viable for anything (least of all a human) to pass through solid matter without performing a jutsu or two.

The unknown Uchiha - for the teen was definitely an Uchiha and not someone who had stolen their clan's eyes - had done two impossibilities tonight.

Itachi knew all of his clansmen by sight alone due to his position as former-heir. However, he has never once seen that teen before - one in his age group at that. There shouldn't be any non-Konoha Uchiha in existence as nobody in their clan but Itachi has 'defected _'_ (and it was  _unheard_  for  _any_  Uchiha or Hyuuga, who held their eyes in a high pedestal, to have a mission-baby).

Furthermore... no two Mangekyou were the same. So how exactly could that fifteen-ish-year-old have the same abilities as Uchiha Madara?

Itachi doubted that it was a coincidence for two Uchiha to have the ability to turn intangibility and teleport instantaneously via Mangekyou Sharingan (he had once calculated all of Uchiha Madara's power and theorized that their eyes were probably linked to space and time).

But he couldn't be sure of that theory as not many in the clan have actually unlocked their eyes'  _final_  form _._ The boy might even be Uchiha Madara's direct descendant, a son or grandson, hence their eyes similarities.

His eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly at the puzzle, but on the inside, he felt elated. If this unknown variable has the potential to become as strong as their clan's powerhouse, Uchiha Madara, then Itachi would have someone to manipulate and mold. And judging by how young and scarred the teen's appearance was; Itachi knew that the probability of him having a tragic background was high.

Those that suffer from childhood misgivings would always cling onto someone similar, or someone who threw them even a little bit of affection. Itachi has never once been a child before, but he knew kindness and love thanks to Shisui. And despite being a pacifist, he would do anything to protect Konoha - even if that means using an abused child, then so be it.

After all; the path to hell was paved with good intentions. He has already stained his hands with the blood of his parents - another clansman would make no difference.

But first, he needed to find the teen.

Itachi's eyes fluttered shut as he concentrated on an image of the unknown Uchiha, the memory was clear thanks to the Sharingan's innate ability to recall everything the user sees.

The boy was about fifteen-years-old, reaching Itachi's chin and quite slender in muscle tone - almost delicate, even. His features were like any other of their clansmen; androgynous during their growth period. Itachi knew that many of the men would grow masculine sooner or later whilst some remained in-between (Itachi himself leaned closer to the latter).

He wore a blue kimono with overlong sleeves, boots (which was an odd choice of footwear for shinobi), and a burnt orange sash and scarf. There was a harsh smell of tobacco and ashes covering his natural scent, and the redolence of his nin-pouches was tenfold - causing Itachi to assume that there was literally nothing  _but_  cigarettes hidden inside the boy's pockets.

What stood out most to Itachi, however, was the other teen's attitude towards his facial scar (and if Itachi wasn't wrong, he saw a few more damaged tissue peeking out from the scarf as well). Apart from those that were in the espionage department and considered themselves honeypots, shinobi usually cared not about physical blemishes received from a bloody battle.

It was shocking to the prodigy that the other Uchiha showed such obvious self- _shame_  at his own face. Itachi had only wanted to see his full features to determine the lucky clansman who had escaped the massacre (and due to his decreasing eyesight, he had no choice but to activate his Mangekyou as he had run out of his usual eyedrops), not make the other teen uncomfortable.

Added to the solicitude at seeing another Uchiha having awoken their Mangekyou at such a young age, he was slow to react to the sudden teleportation act. Although what truly halted all of Itachi's response was those (sad, sad) eyes that screamed ' _don't look at me_ ' with such fierceness that Itachi could only silently comply and take a step back.

It was with regret that he extended his senses in search for the unique, Uchiha-flavored chakra (the nostalgic warmth and wistfulness he felt at the dango shop were unforgettable to Itachi). Or to be more precise; he scouted for a younger and more vibrant version of Uchiha Madara's chakra signature.

After a full ten minutes of no results, Itachi could only give up for now. It would be better for him to return to the INN before Kisame started questioning his whereabouts. With an inaudible sigh, he gave the clearing one last look before taking off into the distance.

* * *

She nibbled nervously on the butt of her cigarette as she paced back and forth, fearful of leaving the dimension yet fully aware that, eventually, she has to. Itachi should be long gone by now - but paranoia was her invisible nemesis, constantly looming over her shoulder and refusing to leave.

Knowing that  _this_  could not continue (she was beginning to feel dehydrated), she forced herself to think useful facts that could lead her to a solution rather than the hazardous  _what ifs_.

Kamui involves space-time shenanigans.

Canon-Obito, often than not, uses his right eye to  _teleport_  to _any location_  he desires. Barrier seals were pretty much useless to his overpowered eyes. Hence, theoretically, she should also be able to do the same feat - no matter how inexperienced she was with Kamui.

However, unlike canon-Obito, she did not possess Senju Hashirama's cells nor the substances that made White Zetsu...  _White Zetsu_. Thus, she did not have his rapid healing to prevent her MS from deteriorating and blinding her. Although she has yet to feel the effects, she dared not risk overusing it.

Call her a coward or whatever, but to be blind in the Naruto universe in  ** _Uchiha Obito_** 's body? Bad idea. Very,  _very_  bad idea.

But for now, she had no choice but to try teleporting to Konoha (away from Itachi) again. The first time she had tried this, she had failed. However, that should not dissuade her. It was as they say; if you fail, try try again! ... though didn't they also mention that trying the same thing repetitiously without a clear change in result was a sign of insanity?

Ah, humans, always contradicting themselves.

Before she could talk herself out of doing something productive, she turned on her Mangekyō and searched for a distortion in the air that  _feels_  similar to 'home'. She would take advantage of this body's natural instinct to  _guide_  her, unlike how she had tried to  _force_  it last time.

Her mind, which was always full of longing for the polluted air of Earth and the sky-high metallic buildings, was replaced by the Hokage Monument and Obito's last living teammate, Kakashi.

It seems as if an eternity has gone by with her eyes seeking desperately for the right space-time distortion. They were beginning to itch, but she ignored the sensation, somehow aware that she was close to finding it.

And she did.

It was like a beacon of light, the nostalgia and warmth (that wasn't hers, but still hers?) a pretty good indication that the distortion was the correct 'gate'. Without delay, she mentally reached for that destination - idly wiping away the slick liquid from her eyes - and spat herself out from the Kamui dimension.

What entered her vision was not what she had been expecting _. At all._

Just inches away from her face was a shuriken patterned quilt, but that wasn't what shocked her into gapping unattractively. No. It was due to the man underneath the covers; she was staring right at an innocently sleeping Hatake Kakashi (how was he still sleeping after her hippopotamus-like entrance?!). And this time, it was her ' _kabe-don_ '-ing someone.

She dared not move a muscle or even  _breath,_ not wanting to test her luck any further.

...  _Apparently_ , it wasn't up for debate. How very shocking (note her sarcasm).

The Fates  _(_ cough _theauthor_ cough) enjoyed playing with her too much to care about her mental anguish and suffering.

She broke out in cold sweat when her bloodstained tears began rolling down her cheeks uncontrollably and dripped onto the quilt, just missing Kakashi's pale skin by a small margin. If the jounin had not pulled the quilt all the way up to his nose... She didn't even want to imagine the outcome.

With excruciating slowness, she began the process of extracting herself from the bed, her _painfully itchy_  eyes locked onto the sleeping figure in fear of missing any signs of wakefulness. Her bloodstained tears continued to fall, and with every landing they did on the quilt, she winced and cringed.

She raised a hand to wipe the tears, but when the bed creaked loudly at the sudden weight loss, however, she stiffened, her face pale as she dared not do anything else.

Kakashi moaned slightly as he shifted in his sleep, his lashes fluttering slightly. She prayed to Jashin that he would not react any further than that.

And,  _of course_ , her prayers weren't granted  _as per usual._

"Obito?" A voice, thick with sleep, echoed throughout the bare bedroom.

If this was any other scenario, she would be squealing at how sexy Kakashi sounded, but currently, her soul has already half-way escaped from her mouth due to fright.

 _Why? Why me...?!,_  Inner-her screamed her grievances to the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for such a late update! My plot-bunnies refused to diligently breed for me! Grrrr... Such uncooperative little shites they are (╬ಠ益ಠ)! They only became compliant after I began listening to a playlist composed of all Alan Walker hits (∥￣■￣∥)...
> 
> Please tell me your thoughts about this chapter (⌬̀⌄⌬́) ~


	7. Chapter 7

Her scalp felt incredibly numb as she gazed into Kakashi's heterochromia eyes, his left having actually  _fucking transformed_  to match her own pair of Mangekyou orbs. If she was more experienced, she would've weaved some kind of elaborated Genjutsu and cut off all future encounters with fate. But due to how hesitant she had been with this body's eyes, she was, sadly, a shame to all Uchiha everywhere.

But that was beside the point.

She knew for a fact that Kakashi's Sharingan had evolved into the Mangekyou when he and Obito witnessed Rin's death. However, there was no mention that Kakashi could intentionally activate it before canon had even started! Was she messing with the timeline so badly that it was fucking everything up or was she in an alternate universe of the canon or was she maybe inside a fucking fanfiction right now?!

Before she could enter a state of questioning her own existence, the ( _very dangerous_ ) shinobi shifted, his eyes showing less sleep as seconds continued to pass by. Which was not good.  _At all._

Not knowing what else to do and how the fuck she should get out of this mess, she decided to use her vast knowledge in all anime matters and just... hopes this bullshite fucking works!

"... You're dreaming right now, Kakashi," she whispered soothingly ( _desperately_ ) despite feeling anything but calm. Her heart was beating dangerously close to 200 beats per minute right now.

"But you feel real," Kakashi's sleep-lidden eyes appeared dull and defeated even as he pushed the quilt aside in order to reached out and wrap his sinewy arms around her waist.

 _I am real! But don't notice, please!_  She inwardly shouted.

Outwardly, however, she allowed herself to be pulled to his chest and obediently laid her bloodstained cheek on his strong shoulder. Without her permission, color flooded her cheeks as she felt  _just_   _how_  muscular Kakashi was. The clothes he wore did nothing to cover how fit he was - much to her embarrassment.

When the jounin's slender fingers began playing with her hair, she didn't know what else to do but remained unmoving. At least the peace and calm was allowing the man to succumb back to Morpheus' embrace, right?  _Right_? Right.

As she waited patiently for him to fall asleep, she studied his face with rapt attention. He looked young - though not as young as this current body of her's. Probably between eighteen to twenty-one. Which, again, fucked her mind up so badly it physically  _hurts_ (oh, wait, that was just her fucking eyes telling her that it was hitting its fucking limit soon).

Current facts:

1) Itachi was already in the Akatsuki.

2) Kakashi wasn't twenty-five years old yet.

3) Her body was fifteen.

4) Her eyes were itching like mad.

Theories:

1) Tobi had already helped with the Uchiha massacre and extended an invitation to Itachi to join the Akatsuki, hence proving that there should be another Obito running looses somewhere.

2) Assuming Kakashi's young age, canon should be in five or so years.

3) Perhaps she just wasn't meant to be in this Narutoverse.

4) She should consider turning off her Mangekyou.

Conclusion:

All of it shows that everything was per canon and  _she_  was the anomaly. Meaning that this body of hers should be from an alternate universe where Obito was fucking burned or flogged or something other than crushed by a bolder and due to her unexpected soul trying to hitch a ride, they somehow dimension-traveled to canon, causing there to be  _two_  Obitos and-

... And she was confusing herself and allowing something called an  _existential crisis_  to take over her head. 

Time to tune back to Kakashi.

Despite the dark circles under his eyes, Kakashi's facial features were irresistibly extraordinary. The more she looks, the more hideous she feels. Like an ugly duckling next to a beautiful swan. She shamefully moved her eyes away and focused more on his head. His silver hair was a mess, and she had this  _insane_  urge to smoothen it out - but, of course, she knew not to pet any  _wild wolves_ since that would be suicidal.

After a moment of tranquility (escaping reality), her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy thanks to the steady rhythm of Kakashi's breathing and the rise and fall of his chest. Knowing that that would be counterproductive, she decided that she should risk removing herself from him before she truly falls asleep. Kamui could be used the second they weren't touching, she reassured herself anxiously.

With a nervous exhale, she carefully extracted herself from his arms - thankful that they were loose - and slipped out of the bed without any other  _exciting_  scenario happening (much to her relief).

Before she could make her exit, however, her wrist was grabbed.

"Are you leaving?  _Again_?"

She turned to the shinobi, his eyes pleading for her - for  _Obito_  - to stay.

She swallowed with much difficulty, her chest throbbing at the uncomfortable feeling she was experiencing. She loathes to disappoint, but she knew that once Kakashi was more awake, he would undoubtedly freak the fuck out. And her life would definitely be put at risk. Maybe she would even get a free ticket to T&I if she lived long enough.

"I'm sorry, Kakashi. You should return to sleep. You look far too exhausted," This body, without her say, reached out and lovingly stroked the man's cheek, a rueful smile playing on her lips.

It spooked her bad enough that she froze completely, pulling her hand back as if the man's skin burnt her.

"Please don't go, Obito. Rin and Minato-sensei are already- I'm all that Team Minato has left... I'm  _lonely_ , Obito. I- _I don't want to be alone anymore,_ " Kakashi choked out the last few words, tears gathering in his eyes.

"Oh, 'Kashi..." She wiped the tears from his eyes and she crouched so that they were on eye level.

It was  _downright_  heartbreaking to see such a powerful shinobi  _shatter_  due to his team's premature death.

"You won't," She breathed out, her voice full of reassurance, "Soon, you won't be alone anymore. There'll be many hardships ahead of you, but persevere and endure them all, 'Kashi.  _They'll_  make sure you won't be alone in the future."

"I don't know if I can," The jounin clenched her wrist tighter as if a child telling their parents to not go to work.

"You can. I promise."

"... Really?"

Oh my fucking Jashin... Kakashi sounded so  _young_.

It made her recall that this was the person who had found his father's body when he was a boy. Who had to leave his teammate behind underneath giant boulders when he had just turned into a teenager. Who fucking  _skewered_  his friend in the chest not long after. And to put the icing on the cake, he then lost the last of his team to a monstrous ball of chakra.

And all of that happened before he even reached the tender age of  _fifteen_. No wonder Kakashi was a mess deep inside. No wonder he was so open to the Obito in his 'dream'. Did the fucking Sandaime even offer support? Or force him into counseling sessions? Or do  _something_  about his mental health, at least?!

 _Fuck_. Narutoverse was brutal. How was this a kid's comic again?

"Really," she sounded strain to even her own ears, her voice thick with emotion, "Now go back to sleep. Please, Kakashi. You're exhausted."

She didn't know if it was the begging or if he truly felt reassured at her words, but the silver-haired jounin obediently closed his eyes. His breathing soon evened out after a few minutes, indicating his slumbering state.

She sighed sadly, gently shook her wrist free, and tenderly tucked the man in - making sure to pull the quilt all the way up to his nose, "I'm sorry, 'Kashi. You don't deserve all that. But I promise you, it'll all be better soon."

She leaped out the window with her Sharingan capturing the deceitfully beautiful image of the village bathed in the orange glow of dawn. As she allowed gravity to do its job, she closed her eyes, simply enjoying the rush of the wind. Just before she hit the ground, her body swirled into a vortex as Kamui pulled her into the safety of her dimension.

If she had stayed for a couple more seconds, she would've seen how Kakashi had jolted awake, threw his quilt off his body, and scanned the room with deliberate eyes. And then she would see how his hands trembled as they ran over his clothed chest and bare shoulders - which were freshly stained with her blood.

"O- _Obito_..." he choked, voice hitching as he scrambled desperately out the window, mask already in place and fingers moving at a breakneck speed to summon his pack.

But she didn't stay. So she didn't see.

Inside her Kamui dimension, she dropped to the ground and covered her bleeding eyes with an arm. Despite this being the first time she was seeing Kakashi in real life, it felt so nostalgic and warm. Her eyes wouldn't stop producing tears and her chest wouldn't stop constricting.

She knew that this body wasn't hers, but this just made it all  _official_ damn it. She had, without a doubt, taken over Obito's body.

Her feelings for Kakashi was never this complicated before - what she should only be feeling was the deep respect for an anime character who has survived against all odds. However, right now, all she felt was this aching urge to reach out and hug Kakashi to death,  _never ever letting go_.

It hurts so much...

Her lips curved into a mocking attempt of a smile as the tears, mixed with blood, continued to roll down her cheeks and stain her scarf. 

* * *

" _I'm so aloneee~ Nothing feels like home... I'm so alone~ Tryin' to find my way back home to you~_ "

Idly, as she wondered if Riku was missing her as much as she was missing him, she sang out of tune whilst balancing on the railings of a bridge; the exact same one Team Kakashi would always meet at in the canon during their genin days. She felt that the song was fitting for her current mood but the lyrics were too singular and repetitious.

With a sigh, she used this body's athletic prowess to pretend to be a ballerina dancing to a melancholic beat.

" _I'm never gonna let you close to me, even though you mean the most to me. 'Cause every time I open up it_ hurts _..._   _So I'm never gonna get too close to you. Even when I mean the most to you. In case you go and leave me in the dirt~_ "

She moved her body in an arabesque position as she continues to kill mother nature with her singing. After a couple of random spins, she bent her knees slightly, jumped, and twirled elegantly in the air before landing perfectly en pointe.

" _But every time you hurt me the less that I cry...! And every time you leave me the quicker these tears dry~! And every time you walk out the less I love you... Baby we don't stand a chance, it's sad but it's true... I'm way too good at goodbyes~_ "

Many might be wondering what the fuck she was still doing in Konohagakure - singing and dancing like a mad person - after having shown her face to Kakashi. Well, her answer was simple: Itachi had seriously scared her off from traveling the world, hence, for her own safety, Konoha was her best option at staying alive.

... Or so she would like to believe, anyway.

Kakashi's words had been drilled deep into her mind, and she felt compelled to at least be near him... despite her evasive habit whenever she sees him out on the streets (a total of  _one_  time). Furthermore, just at the sight of him, safe and sound, makes her feel contended. So who was she to deny her stalker instincts?  _Ahem_ , she meant happiness. Who was she to ignore her what makes her happy?

After a few weeks has come and gone, she relaxed some of her guard and believes wholeheartedly that the Hokage would not know of her existence at all (seeing that she has no plans whatsoever to become a shinobi  _officially_ ). She was just another civilian in the crowd, and because there were plenty of people in Konoha, they wouldn't even know she was an illegal immigrant unless she was specially checked upon.

She also took to 'reading' a book whenever she was out and about, as this gave her a legit excuse to look down and allow her fringe to shadow her face as much as possible.

"Asuka-kun!"

With a foot still raised and her arms in a mocking stance of balance like those tightrope walkers back on Earth, she turned her head towards the person who was calling her by her alias.

Ah, yes. Her  _punny_  alias. She snickered to herself at the inside joke before giving one last twirl and jumping down from the bridge's railing.

As she waited patiently for the teen to reach her, 'Asuka' sized her up. The brunette, Himari, was carrying a bunch of scrolls. It wasn't a surprise since they were colleagues who work as food couriers.

The eighteen-year-old civilian has short brown hair and wide, innocent brown eyes, an average face, and was tall for a Japanese female (175cm); the same height as this (still growing) body. She was wearing a white tee, a pink bubble skirt, a pair of sandals, and a cap with the company's logo printed on it.

"Good morning, Himari-chan."

"Morns! Here's the list for yer deliveries. Ya good to handle that much?"

"No problem."

She gave the brunette a small smile as she automatically reaches for her share of deliveries and the list of addresses and orders.

"Great! I'll see ya later at the break room?"

"We'll see."

The teen rolled her eyes at Asuka's standard non-answer, muttering under her breath about annoying 'men' and their need to act all mysterious.

Her smile vanished upon hearing that comment, still feeling uncomfortable living inside a man's body. Despite trying her best to trick her mind into thinking it as mere crossplaying, it was difficult whenever she sees the  _thing_  dangling in between her legs. 

"Ya always say that. Ah, whatever. See ya when I see ya then, I guess."

Asuka hummed the song 'Silhouette' under her breath as she watches Himari run off into the streets, her silhouette fading into the morning crowd. Seeing that the scrolls wouldn't deliver themselves, she pulled out the company's headband, tied it around her bicep, and looked at the first address on her list.

She spent her whole morning making deliveries, going back to the company building to get more addresses, and delivering more takeouts. It wasn't physically demanding to someone like her who has the body of a shinobi. The pay was also actually decent enough for her to pay her rent and more.

It was quite unexpected that the people here did not ask for any identification documents when she was job and apartment-hunting, but she simply shrugged it off, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth. Her bachelor apartment was affordable and actually, after she had agreed on rent, discovered that it was quite near to Kakashi's apartment building.

A block away and directly facing it, actually. Quite a coincidence, but she wouldn't have it any other way. The jounin wouldn't have any reason to sniff through the area, anyway.

After returning to her apartment, she stepped out the balcony and lit a cigarette, enjoying the fresh breeze of the evening air. Konoha, despite being a hidden village filled with deadly ninjas, was quite peaceful (not counting the start of the series). If she didn't have Riku waiting for her return back on Earth, she wouldn't have minded staying here till she was old and wrinkly.

" _There are probably a lot of things we don't remember. Everyone, even him, becoming a mere Silhouette. We've pretended to forget the things we held dear... So we can just laugh and say it's nothing~ Lighty, nimbly, the dance. Just like those leaves, having a singular purpose, I want to proceed without impatience~_ "

She breathed out, smiling ruefully as she watches the smoke dance in the air. Putting her elbows on the railings, she fingered the right side of her face, feeling the rough texture of scars on her skin.

Soon, her schedule would be filled, mostly with physical training, chakra control exercises, and stealth work. They were needed for her to be able to sneak through the libraries and Uchiha clan archives.

" _There are probably a lot of things we don't remember, but there are also things that will never change. And you, who taught me this, are a fading, fading Silhouette. Clutching the things we wish to hold dear, we'll become more mature, never letting them wander~ Protecting them at all times. Then someday... We'll be able to laugh about it all~_ "

For now, she supposes she could enjoy and cherish what little peace she could find in order to distract the darkness that was budding in her heart, growing whenever she thinks about her best friend back on Earth.

" _Lightly, nimbly, they dance... Those leaves fly into the distance_ ~"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys don't mind this filler. There'll be a time skip coming up so look forward to the next chapter! (ง •̀ω•́)ง✧
> 
> You guys sure are sadists. Poor OC is dreading her bad luck and you guys are cheering for more. Tsk tsk. So cruel~ (ﾟДﾟ)
> 
> Asuka = 飛 (asu) meaning "to fly" and 鳥 (ka) meaning "bird", and since the direct meaning of "Tobi" from the Japanese language is "to fly", I thought why not? Word plays are my favorite type of humor (no matter how childish) ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoy my stories and would like to further support my writing hobbies, please consider leaving me [coffee ](https://ko-fi.com/V7V5HKR7)@ https://ko-fi.com/V7V5HKR7 ! It'll be heavily appreciated! (๑•̀ㅁ•́ฅ


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